Kiss Your Teardrops Away
by NaruYasha352
Summary: Scout realizes the hard way that love can't last on a battlefield. Scout/Sniper
1. Pain

**Disclaimer -** I do not own TF2 or its characters. I'm just playing with them for a while.

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**Chapter 1 - Pain**

As the world began to blur in his blood stained vision, Scout accepted the fact that he was going to die.

Nineteen years old and a virgin, no less.

It hurt to breath, it hurt to move, it hurt to have the thought of his imminent death invading his mind, but he tried one last time to pick himself from out of the mud and roll to the nearest source of cover before the incoming grenades could finish bouncing toward him.

Crazy as it was to believe, the effort wasn't as futile as he had expected.

"F-fuck, this hurts," he moaned, forcing himself over on what had to be more than a couple cracked ribs, and rolling behind some concrete debris. The debris turned out to be a smashed chunk of wall. It looked sturdy enough to hold up during one more explosion. He hoped.

The explosions rocked the wall, crumbling what little bit was left, but leaving Scout alive and clinging.

"Where's a m-medic when you need one?" he moaned weakly, staring up at the crimson sky above.

Bits of rock and dirt rained down, causing him to lift a shaky hand over his face. When he pulled it back, he saw it stained with red. Like everything around here.

Since he'd joined, all he saw was red, red, red. He hated that color so much.

Huffing with the effort of lifting himself into a sitting position, Scout lowered both hands to his shirt and wiped his face. Pretty soon he would risk friendly fire, his blue shirt had become so stained it looked red as the enemies'.

A foot came crashing down behind him. Weaponless, Scout grabbed the nearest large rock and hoped his pitching arm wouldn't give out on him after this much struggle.

"Pyro!" he choked out, almost excited to see the psychopath.

"Sct, hmmph hrrpm!" Pyro puffed through his gas mask, the same unintelligible gibberish he always gave. His actions left Scout feeling much better. The asbestos suited creature grabbed the boy beneath the arms and hefted him up, dragging quickly toward safety.

"Ow, Pyro, watch it," mumbled Scout, the pain in whatever had been broken and dislodged inside his body during his battles coming in sharp bursts that made him want to scream.

His throat burned and his voice cracked. The screaming could wait for when he made it to the infirmary.

"Mddddk!" Pyro shouted into the incoming darkness.

It was lost in another explosion behind them, and in Scout's dwindling consciousness.

Prone to playing sick tricks on him, Scout's subconscious conjured up a more pleasant memory of home, the smell of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, and his mother waiting for him with bandages and antiseptic.

Despite the pain of his current situation, Scout smiled before passing out, leaving the dissonant happy expression on his face as he was hauled into the infirmary.


	2. Prescription

**Chapter 2 - Prescription**

"Yeah, Ma. I do want another cookie," Scout mumbled happily in a whisper.

The loud crack and excruciating pain that suddenly followed jarred Scout out of his sweet dream and back into a cruel reality.

"AAAAH, GOD!"

Scout bolted upright on the table, eyes wide, to find Medic's bloody gloves on him, the doctor in the process of resetting one of his dislocated limbs.

"Zo zorry, ve do not have any cookies at zhis time," Medic quipped, reaching over to his tray of supplies, where he carelessly pulled something from a white box and brought it to his patient's gaping mouth. "But you can chew on zhis." He stuffed a square pad of gauze into Scout's mouth to muffle the screaming and continued on with his work.

Scout swore up and down and screamed through the gauze until he'd gone red in the face, but remained in good enough behavior so that the doctor could fix him. He knew all too well what the consequences would be if he threw a big enough fit. Medic made no time for violent screaming tantrums from his patients.

When it was over, Scout held in a whimper and let the gauze fall from between his tightly clenched teeth.

"Fuck, doc. Next time fully anesthetize me, why don't ya?"

"You vere unconscious vhen Pyro brought you in. I azzumed you vould stay zhat vay for a few hours," Medic responded calmly as he went about cleaning his gloves in the sink.

Looking himself over, Scout found everything to be back in working condition, though his outfit was in tatters and his body was still covered in splashed his own blood. A shower and a change of wardrobe would take care of that. There was an aching emptiness in his gut. Before Scout made the mistake of asking Medic if he forgot any of his tools inside him, he realized it was merely hunger.

"Yeah, yeah." Scout found himself suddenly too tired to get into any arguments with Medic. He slid himself off the gurney and gave the doctor a wave of gratitude as he headed out the door.

"Next!" Medic called sharply from behind.

Scout pressed himself against the hallway wall as two soldiers carried in a third, who was missing an arm and a good portion of his shoulder. A long, thick trail of blood followed their path all the way down the hall and to the infirmary.

"You're gonna need more towels, doc! We got a real bleeder here!" one of the soldiers grunted.

"You're tellin' us," Scout muttered, stepping across the blood river. He'd had enough blood for one day.

He followed the trail for a while just to see how far it went on (the soldier must have gotten hit near the B Control Point) and when he got bored of that, Scout veered off to check on Engineer.

Engineer was alive and well, surprisingly, and looking fresh as a daisy. As fresh as you can get for somebody who spent hours covered in oil and grease, that was. Better still, he had a few beers left in his case.

Scout grabbed one and tapped his friend on the shoulder. "Hey, Hardhat. Where's the opener? I think I deserve one of these after what I been through t'day."

Smiling, Engineer reached up and popped the bottle's cap off easily with his mechanical fingers. "Well, lookie who it is. I wouldn't have expected the doc to have patched ya up so fast, not seein' the lickin' you took with my own two eyes."

The memory of his vicious fight with the BLU Scout and Demoman replayed in his head, causing Scout to groan. He would have ambushed them both and caved their skulls in no problem, if it hadn't been for a certain annoying member of the BLU team.

"That fucking BLU Sniper," Scout muttered, putting the beer to his lips but hesitating to drink. "Shot me in the leg, blew my cover. Messed me up for that whole stinkin' fight. Asshole's really got it out for me this week."

Chuckling, Engineer moved over to his truck and began packing up the rest of his equipment.

"Well son, ya did shoot out the tires on his ride. Maybe he's holdin' a grudge for property damage," said Engineer. He patted the side of his own blue truck. "Ya don't mess with a man's ride without expectin' retribution."

Snorting out a laugh of his own, Scout shook his head in disbelief. "What, that rusty old piece of shit? Who'd hold a grudge over that? Oh yeah, I forgot, that's also his fucking house. What a loser! Guess he hates me for makin' his mobile home stationary." Scout laughed harder.

When he saw Sniper coming, he swallowed his laughter and drank more of his beer.

"Oi, mates," Sniper greeted warmly, first tipping his hat to Engineer. "Good defense we had t'day, wa'n it?"

"That it was. Got a little rough around Point C, but nothin' we couldn't handle," Engineer said proudly, giving his Dispenser a pat before pressing the button that made it (strangely enough) dismantle itself and fold up to be packed away more easily.

Try as he might, Scout couldn't keep down his frustration upon seeing the Aussie turn his way next.

"Sniper, what was the problem out there today? I figured you'd have my back. Like you said you would. Y'know?" He silenced himself with his beer again before he said anything too stupid and wrecked the entire evening. It wasn't the point he was after, but it would due as an excuse.

"Look, I'm sorry, Scout. I know I was supposed t'be coverin' your back. I was, but see, the BLU spy, well, he got me," Sniper admitted hesitantly.

Scout figured as much. That made him angry, too. It always made him angry, seeing the French dirtbag hounding his team. And especially Sniper, who considered the enemy spy his sworn arch nemesis. The spy considered Sniper some kind of plaything, apparently. Scout felt his insides burn with more than hunger. It was a rage he had yet to fully realize.

"Did you die today?" Scout mumbled into the opening of his beer bottle. His eyes never left Sniper's face.

Sniper hesitated to speak again, his lips twitching in clear discomfort.

"You did, didn't you." Scout sighed.

"Now wait just a minute, I di'n say that," Sniper quickly protested.

"You didn't need to," said Scout, turning away to hide his growing frown.

"I almost did, okay? But not quite," said Sniper, placing a hand on Scout's shoulder.

"Not quite?" Scout questioned incredulously.

"I didn't Respawn. One of the new docs managed to patch me up b'fore I kicked the bucket, alright?" Sniper's matching frown turned back into a hesitant smile. "I'll never doubt those blokes again, just 'cause they're new to the field. Got skills, they do."

"They prob'ly wanna make themselves look good," Scout said, his frown fading. "So people take 'em more seriously."

"How about you? Heard you got torn up pretty bad t'day, thanks to my failure to properly spy-check my damn roost." Sniper looked Scout over through his dark sunglasses. "Should I be angrily interrogating you now?"

"I didn't die either," Scout confirmed, finally smiling. "But I wasn't as lucky to get one of the nice docs patchin' me up. I got the crusty old devil who's been workin' the place for the past five years."

"You poor thing," Sniper chuckled, patting Scout on the back. "But if anyone can bring the dying back to life, it's him."

Scout gave a noncommittal grunt. "True, but the man's still a major asshole. If you aren't dying, you aren't worthy of his time, what kind of stance is that for a fuckin' doctor?"

Before he could get any further with a rant, Scout's stomach growled loud enough to be startling.

"Uhhh, that aside, I think I gotta eat somethin' before I pass out," Scout moaned unhappily, placing a hand over his stomach. "Then I gotta shower before my skin crawls off and runs away."

"I could use a sannie and a glass of milk myself," Sniper agreed, putting an arm around Scout. The two began to walk toward the mess hall.

"Milk? Pussy!" Scout chuckled.

"Milk's good for th' body, mate," Sniper said with a pleasant smile, ignoring Scout's little knock against his masculinity completely.

"So's a cold beer after a shitty day."

"Can't argue with that."

"Let's get to the kitchen before Heavy shows up and raids the fridge," Scout said, increasing his walking pace.

"Or Pyro shows up and decides to cook something," Sniper added.


End file.
